Part 11: Primavera

APPLe: Oh, thank heavens. No more befuddling riddles and clouds of sleeping gas. I've never loved this world as much as I do now!
APPLe: You were quite clever to cooperate with Alberto to stall for time. But how did you know that Ezio was coming to save us?
Vertin: ...
Vertin: I didn't know. But I knew that irritating Alberto would risk the safety of Sotheby and Leonardo.
Vertin: Moreover, I think I may have actually figured out what the "relics" truly are ...
A small, brownish shadow flashes past the window.
APPLe: Hmm? That sound is familiar, isn't it?
Ezio: I'll take a look.
Another clumsy little bird carrying its creator's encrypted message.
Ezio: "Sicuro." He means he's safe.
Ezio: Looks like my friends from the Thieves' Guild have already rescued Leonardo and Miss Sotheby.
Vertin: You seem to have a lot of friends.
Vertin: I always thought that assassins worked alone.
Smiling, the Assassin shakes his head.
Ezio: Quite the opposite.
Ezio: True assassins, are more than just killers. We are the manifestation of a belief. A belief in freedom and the ability to fight for it.
Ezio: We do not hold to any authority but our own. We are free to follow our own path.
Ezio: And many share that belief. That's why we are never alone.
Vertin: ... Just like the artists that painted these.
Vertin: I imagine they must see each other as fellow believers in art.
For a moment, everyone takes a moment to appreciate the mottled frescoes surrounding them.
APPLe: So ... the outline of their story should be clear now.
One by one, the pages that had been scattered to an unknown corner of history fall neatly together.
They should have been carried away by the winds of time, like fallen leaves.
But if these pages were ever meant to be rediscovered someday, then yes—
Now is that moment.
APPLe: About 20 years ago, a group of painters led by Uccello started working on the fresco here.
APPLe: Even today, you can still sense the enthusiasm in their work.
Male Painter I: The essence of linear perspective lies not only in reproducing reality, but in the narrative quality of space itself!
Male Painter II: You've only scratched the surface. If you truly want to grasp the essence of the concept, I suggest you review Plato's theory of forms.
Male Painter II: Rather than simply copying nature, as artists, we should strive to reveal their true ideals through our work.
Female Painter: I'm so jealous of them.
Female Painter: They are so talented and knowledgeable ... unlike me. I feel dizzy just seeing those guidelines.
Uccello: Bah, let me show you some tricks better than mere linear perspective!
APPLe: Here, Uccello lifted a stained glass to showcase his wondrous optical phenomenon.
Male Painter I: Not again, Uccello! You can't keep altering our work with that strange pigment of yours!
Male Painter I: What a mess. And it goes against our patron's instructions. What if they find out about it?
Uccello: Hmph, look closely.
Male Painter II: The modified colors and lines do give the work a little more life. Fine, I admit it, you know what you're doing!
Male Painter III: He's right. I say we keep it—it's not like our patrons are ever smart enough to figure these things out anyway ...
Female Painter: It never occurred to me painting could be so ... liberating. Thank you for enlightening me.
Uccello: Huh? Of course, to paint is to find freedom. That is what it always has been!
Vertin: It was a time of joy and of meaningful creation.
Vertin: But it didn't last long.
Guild Official: I'm sorry we must suspend funding for now; there is simply no money to pay you.
APPLe: All at once, the painters and artisans were kicked out of the cathedral.
APPLe: Stripped of their right to finish their final painting, leaving no room for negotiation.
Vertin: No payments, and no written records were left behind.
APPLe: But life had to go on. These painters and artisans scattered each one doing what they could to earn their bread.
APPLe: But always returning to the unfinished fresco that tugged at their heartstrings.
Female Painter: That night, I returned to the dome. But I never expected to find Uccello there as well.
Female Painter: Then others came ... one by one.
Female Painter: Turns out, I wasn't the only one reluctant to leave our work behind.
Ezio: Again, Uccello lifted the stained glass and—
Ezio: ...
Ezio: Their story has come to a pause here. Now, let's finish it ...
He lifts APPLe gently into the light, it reflects off his golden radiance as the Assassin walks toward the unfinished fresco.

The vanishing points, hidden beneath layers of lime plaster and pigments, finally merge in the waning sunlight.
The only thing left to do is lift APPLe up and wait—
For the perfect ray of light.
The light, here it comes.
Outside, the bells ring out, startling a flock of rock doves.
As twilight streams down over the fresco, the once drab surface begins to change color ...
Uccello: Let's leave something behind for our own sake! Birds with grayish feathers, bells that ring at dusk, or the Arno River running free ...
Uccello: Let's do it! With all that we have left!
Uccello: Our brushes and pigments!
Ezio: ... So that is what all of this is.
Just a group of artists who cast aside all constraints to finish a masterpiece in secret.
No linear perspective, no intricate designs—yet a masterpiece nonetheless.
They left behind a magnificent spring for Florence.